


our house

by wckedlittletown



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Conguel, Connor Murphy Uses He/They Pronouns, M/M, based on a conversation rich and i had about connor never letting anyone into his room, deh book spoilers, just a little rewrite of the scene in the book plus a zoe scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:14:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29788353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wckedlittletown/pseuds/wckedlittletown
Summary: “Your hair’s getting long.” Miguel reached up to touch the frayed ends of Connor’s almost shoulder length hair.“Hm,” Connor grunted, looking at Miguel’s hand, close to their face.“I like it.” Miguel smiled. He rested his hand on Connor’s shoulder. “Hey, I have a song that kind of reminds me of you. I think we should listen to it.”
Relationships: Miguel/Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	our house

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beaniebabyrich](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beaniebabyrich/gifts).



“Get out of my fucking room. Now.”

Connor scowled at Zoe as she sat at his desk chair, looking at him like some sort of wild animal she was tasked with taming. 

“Mom and Dad are really worried about you.” She shifted in the chair and looked away. “They said you’ve been coming home later and later.”

“And they couldn’t say that themselves? They sent you to do the dirty work. Deal with the problem. I get it, Zoe, but you don’t have to pretend to care.” 

Connor kicked off their shoes and adjusted to sit even farther away from Zoe. “Now could you please fucking leave,” He deadpanned, scowling, “Now.”

“Alright,” She said through her teeth, standing up briskly to leave, “But would you really rather they asked you at dinner?”

Connor sighed dramatically. “Fine, just tell them I went to the park. Or whatever. They don’t actually care; they just want a reason to send me to rehab again so they don’t have to deal with me anymore.”

“Connor, you know that’s not true. Honestly, I don’t even know why we’re having this conversation.”

“Me neither. So leave.” 

And she did.

  
\--

“I feel like maybe I’m the first Mexican in your house who wasn’t getting paid to be here.” Miguel smirked as he walked through the door to the Murphy household. 

“No.”

“For some reason, I find that hard to believe,” Miguel snorted while looking at the stiff, posed photos on the wall, many of which excluded Connor. “Jeez, could your family get any more rich and white?”

“You’d be surprised.” Connor was surprising himself with his own short and clipped answers. Normally he was more talkative, especially around Miguel. Miguel made it so easy to joke around and say dumb shit, but standing in this house Connor always felt like a funhouse mirror version of himself.

Miguel nudged Connor and started walking toward his room. Connor was still firmly in place, looking at the wall.

“Are you coming?” 

It felt like moving through jelly just to look up at him. Connor felt about nine steps behind his every word.

“What? Oh yeah, sorry.” Jesus, he wasn’t even high yet and he was talking like Miguel just pulled out a breathalyzer. 

“Um, come in.” Connor said, opening the door. Inviting someone into his room. That was definitely a first for Connor. He was almost always kicking someone out.

In his room, Connor could think more clearly. It was his little sanctuary, his “fortress of solitude” as Cynthia so kindly put it.

_Nobody without the last name ‘Murphy’ has ever been in here before_ , Connor realized to himself. He didn’t know if he minded that the first one was Miguel. 

“Really? The Little Prince?” Miguel was already looking through Connor’s books. He looked like he belonged there, like this was his space too; Connor smiled to himself and adjusted to the new feelings.

“Sometimes I forget you’re younger than me,” Miguel laughed, sitting on the floor against Connor’s bed, “But then I see stuff like this, The Little Prince, and I realize how innocent you are.”

“Hey, I’m only younger by, like, four months!” Connor exclaimed, sitting close to him on the floor. “Plus, I’m not that innocent. I’m the one who got kicked out of school for smoking weed.”

Miguel looked down. Connor could tell that the comment was a little too soon, and it hurt him, but Miguel was pretending it didn’t bother him. “Right.” Miguel said. 

\--

Later that night, they had switched to lying on the floor. Miguel had put on some music that Connor didn’t even recognize. They had listened to the entire Bury Me at Makeout Creek album and Connor felt simultaneously weightless and also like he was going to sink into the ground at any moment.

“Hey,” Miguel said. “What you thinkin’ about?” He turned his head to face Connor, who was looking down at their fidgeting hands.

“Nothin’.” Connor tucked his hair behind his ear.

“Your hair’s getting long.” Miguel reached up to touch the frayed ends of Connor’s almost shoulder length hair.

“Hm,” Connor grunted, looking at Miguel’s hand, close to their face.

“I like it.” Miguel smiled. He rested his hand on Connor’s shoulder. “Hey, I have a song that kind of reminds me of you. I think we should listen to it.”

Connor was dizzy. He had never experienced this many intense positive emotions and they were sure their stomach was going to explode from all the butterflies.

Miguel reached over Connor’s torso to get his phone that was placed above them on Connor’s bed. He pulled it down and started playing this song that Connor knew he was never going to forget. It had high pitched vocals and he could understand why Miguel was reminded of Connor when he listened to it.

_Don't hold back, I want to break free_

_God is singing through your body_

_And I'm carried by the sound_

_Every drum, every single beat_

_They were born from your body_

_And I'm carried by the sound_

Miguel returned his hand to where it was before, grazing Connor’s hair. 

_Oh, ooh, love_

_They'll never break the shape we take_

_Oh, ooh_

_Baby, let all them voices slip away_

_Don't look back, I want to break free_

_If you'll never see 'em coming_

_You'll never have to hide_

_Take my hand, take my everything_

_If we only got a moment_

_Give it to me now_

After the song ended, Miguel reached over again to stop it.

“Could you play it again?” Connor asked, stopping him. “I really liked it.”

Connor smiled at Miguel, a genuine smile that Miguel would remember for years to come. 

“Sure. Of course.”

_Don't hold back, I want to break free_

As the first lines started up again, and Miguel laid back down on the floor, almost imperceptibly closer to them, Connor could feel something in his stomach, some sense of strange bravery and giddiness all in one. 

He looked over at Miguel, who had his eyes closed, tapping his fingers on the floor. For the first time, Connor noticed a birthmark on his neck that they had never seen before. He was entranced by it, some sort of beautiful blemish that was part of Miguel.

_Oh, ooh, love_

_They'll never break the shape we take_

_Oh, ooh_

_Baby, let all them voices slip away_

Connor reached out his knobbly hand and touched it. They didn’t know why, just got the urge to. Miguel stopped drumming his fingers and slowly got this blissful sort of smile.

_No caressing, no caressing_

_No caressing, no caressing_

_No caressing, no caressing_

_No caressing, no caressing, no_

Suddenly, Miguel’s eyes opened and locked with Connor’s. Here, in his room, Connor finally felt at home.

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this for rich, my favorite connor kinnie and the co-ceo of conguel. i hope you guys like it!!  
> lyrics are from "slip away" by perfume genius


End file.
